Page 94 of Smith

“Who is she?”

A car door slamming reminded me we were on her porch within earshot of her neighbors.

“Get your ass in the house.”

Her pale face turned a shade of red that was nearing purple.

I didn’t give a single fuck she was pissed. Her anger couldn’t compare to the fury pumping through my veins.

“I don’t?—”

“Seriously as fuck, woman, get in the house.”

She whirled and stomped into the house. I followed, not bothering attempting to cool my temper.

I hadn’t even made it over the threshold when Aria spun to face me.

“Is—”

“Do. Not. Say. That name. Again.”

I slammed the door and beat back the urge to wrestle Aria’s phone out of her hand to see who had called her. Thankfully, I had at least a smidgeon of control and stayed across the room.

“Who called you?”

“No one.”

Bullshit. That name didn’t magically pop into her head.

“Who told you?” I tried again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“The fuck it doesn’t!” I seethed. “You get I’m furious, right now’s not the time to bullshit me.”

“Tell me who she is and I’ll explain?—”

“That woman doesn’t exist for you. Now tell me who the fuck betrayed me.”

If I hadn’t been holding on by a thread that was so frayed it was getting ready to snap and drop me straight into the pits of hell I would’ve had a mind to the way Aria flinched. But I was too close to breaking. Too close to being dragged under. Too fucking close to the pain.

My past and present had collided.

The fuse had been lit.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the air in the room thick and heavy, everything was spiraling. My world was threatening to explode and I had no way to stop it.

Too much.

It was too fucking much.

“Who is she?”

“Aria—”

“Who is she, Smith?” She leaned forward and screamed.

What was left of my sanity snapped. The walls I’d build around my memories crumbled. The pain and anger and hatred and grief blended into a new toxin. A poison so lethal I couldn’t contain it. I had to purge the contaminant before it killed me.

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